


lest the sky should fall down

by akelios



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Blood Play, DFKM, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Wound Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akelios/pseuds/akelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Your mother fought me too. I've learned since then. Better to break you completely.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Lord Raith wins in the Deeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lest the sky should fall down

**Author's Note:**

> Lord Raith is a skeezy, skeezy creeper. There can never be enough warnings for that.

Murphy moved silently on bare feet and I did my best not to let my eyes track her as she came up behind Bodyguard Barbie. She leapt, her kick aimed at Barbie’s neck and my heart hammered as I held my breath.

At the last second, Barbie whirled and _caught_ Murphy’s blow on her hastily upraised arms. Murphy cursed and tried to turn the kick into another blow, to pull us back from the edge. I shouted as Barbie dodged the second and the third blow, as she whipped her gun up and around, down onto the back of Murphy’s skull, following it up with a knee to her wounded side and a right hook that rocked Murphy back and then over. She collapsed into a heap that shuddered with pain.

“No!” I strained against the chains that held me to the wall, screaming. Barbie shot me a look that contained more personality than she’d displayed the entire time I’d known her and kicked Murphy in the stomach. “You fucking bitch! Leave her alone!”

Barbie raised her gun and stalked toward me, getting close enough to press the end of the barrel to my forehead. If my legs had been free I'd have kicked her. I snarled and spit at her instead while Murphy moaned on the floor and Madge chanted over my brother.

Seconds passed, then a minute, and then Lord Raith came bounding back into the Deeps, silent and faster than hell. He landed half way between the ritual space and the wall where I was chained and looked around, a frown marring his handsome face as he noticed Murphy on the floor.

“What happened here?” He leaned down and grasped Murphy’s short blonde hair, hauled her across the room by it and rolled her back onto the cushions. She went, limp and almost silent. He ran his hand over her face, her neck, and she moaned again, the sound changing, her body shuddering. Even when his fingers found the knife wound and sank into it, her only reaction was a breathy pant and the smallest arch of her hips. Lord Raith chuckled and turned to face Barbie.

“They tried to escape, my Lord.” Barbie’s voice was dreamlike, but clear enough. She stepped away as Raith approached, holstering her weapon. All signs of emotion were gone again. Raith touched her, just the simple, quiet press of his hand against her upper arm through the suit jacket she wore. Her eyes closed, her lips parted enough to give me a glimpse of white, wet teeth.

“Thank you, Guard.” Raith displaced her from in front of me, moved until he was blocking my vision of anything else in the room. “Some idiot buck shot my daughter. Nearly killed my precious Inari. She’s on her way to the hospital.” His hand came up to hover near my cheek. I jerked away, banging my head against the cave wall behind me, and Raith laughed. He was just having a grand old time. “There’s much of your mother in you, isn’t there, Harry. So angry, so passionate. It will be a shame if I have to kill you too.”

Raith crowded into my space, pressed me against the wall, his fingers wrapping around my jaw to hold me still. I snarled and tried to fight, to move away, but there was nowhere to go, his lips crushing mine, forcing them apart. His tongue drove into my mouth and I started to bite down, to rip the thing from his mouth, only my legs went weak and my heart went into overdrive for a whole new reason. I was _hard_ , my hips rocking against Raith, breathing hard and sucking on his tongue, trying to draw it deeper into me. I wanted him. Wanted him to keep touching me, to touch more of me.

Raith pulled away and I heard a whine claw out of my throat. He turned and something left me, something sharp and beautiful slid away. I wanted it back. I pulled and fought against the chains. Pain started in my wrists, different from any kind of pain I’d ever felt before. It felt _good_ , another level of sensation to the dizzying array that were already running through me.

“Madge, dear, a small change of plans.” Madge did not break her chant, but her eyes tracked over to Lord Raith’s face. “Target Joan with the curse. I can always kill Harry later, if it doesn’t work.” His hand curled around the back of my neck and I wanted to drop to my knees for him. If only the chains weren’t there. I sobbed.

The chant rose from Madge’s throat like the rainbow of color on an oil slick. Raith ran his hand up into my hair, fingers slipping through the sweaty strands easily, tugging gently. I pressed back into the touch and begged him to do more. He only smiled and fisted his fingers in the short hair at the top of my skull.

“Watch.” Pleasure spiked through me, higher and harder. I was on the edge of coming in seconds, it was as though there were hands and tongues all over me, touching me, loving me. I keened, the sound lost under the steady chanting from Madge and the soft murmur of Lord Raith’s voice in my ear, telling me how good it was going to feel, how much he was going to enjoy the taste of me, the feel of my body shattering open around him. Just as soon as we watched Thomas die.

My gaze focused on Thomas, on my brother. Our eyes met, his wide and frightened, horrified, and then Madge’s chant hit a crescendo and the knife flashed down. He screamed through the gag, muffled and sickening. The blade sank into his chest with a wet thunk, the miniature tornado that had formed over Madge’s head descended, covering him until nothing could be seen. The hand in my hair tightened and I was coming, my skin cold as ice as I did, humping the air helplessly as pleasure rammed through me, sweeping away the choking sorrow and the struggling tendrils of fear that kept trying to fight through the ecstasy.

My jeans were sticky, hot liquid running down my legs. Raith cheered as the mist form gathered into a tight ball and shot up out of the caves, revealing the twisted, dessicated corpse of my brother. The demon had drained him of blood, of life. Pain, faint, but growing stronger twitched in my chest. I’d come, but I was still hard, still eager for more.

“ _Wonderful_!” His skin began to glow, shining, brilliant white. Raith left me and I swayed on my feet. He crossed the room to where Murphy still lay on the cushions, her skin pale and faintly green.

“My Lord?” Madge rose and broke the circle. “Is there anything further that you wish of me?”

“No. No! Leave. Take Guard with you.” He never turned from staring down at Murphy. She stirred, sitting up finally. The light wasn’t good enough for me to make out any details, but Murphy rolled to her knees and crawled to Raith, ending with her head resting against his thighs, golden curls veiling her face. “Leave the keys to the chains.” The ring of keys clattered to the ground and the women left, moving quietly.

As soon as we were alone, Raith stripped out of his jacket and his shirt, tossing them in the direction of the throne.

“Strip.” A quiet sob reached my ears and my body reacted, shuddering. He wasn’t speaking to me, he was ignoring me almost entirely, and I hated it. I wanted him to turn back to me, not to leave me alone, the feeling of my clothes scraping against my skin a constant tease, deliciously rough. Murphy staggered to her feet and obeyed him, no hesitation, no attempt at seduction in her movements. Her clothes ended in a pile on the floor beside the cushions.

Raith smiled. His hands ran over Murphy’s shoulders, down her arms. She gasped and arched into the touch. Firelight played over the pair of them, giving his skin a warm tint and painting Murphy’s body golden red. Raith bent down and placed a kiss in the middle of Murphy’s forehead. Her hands flew to his waist, tugging at his pants. I shifted, trying to find some position that hurt a little less, that eased some of the pressure on my need. He pulled her hands away from him, directed them back to her own body.

A crackle and shift of wood made the light in the cave grow brighter for a minute. I could see Murphy’s eyes close as Raith guided one of her hands to between her legs, covering the soft, dark gold tangle of hair that hid her sex. Her moan was loud enough to echo in the huge space as she crooked her fingers and slid them up into her body. I closed my eyes, unable to see clearly enough. I could imagine though, with the heat and the pleasure wracking my body.

Murphy had small hands, but they were strong. Two or three fingers, sure in their path. She would be driving them into her channel, wet and hot, tight. Filling herself and driving the need higher, muscles clenching again and again as she worked her fingers back and forth, a roll of the wrist sending shudders of delight up her spine. Her thighs would clench, the muscles so tight that they nearly cramped.

Her other hand would be roving, touching everywhere she could. Her throat, her breasts, tweaking the nipples, twisting them and drawing higher, louder cries. She would stroke down over the hard muscles of her stomach, nails scraping at her hips, digging into the tight curve of her thighs.

“Harry. Open your eyes.” Lord Raith’s voice, in my ear, as if he had come to stand beside me. I opened my eyes as ghostly hands slid up under my shirt, squeezing hard enough to make me breathless. Raith stood behind Murphy, hunched over her small form, embracing her. His skin gleamed with a pearlescent shine, his eyes pure white when he raised his head to stare at me.

He kept one hand pressed to Murphy’s chest, right between her breasts and blood seeped from beneath his palm. Had he cut her again or had he been playing with the knife wound? I moaned at the thought, his fingers inside of her, the painpleasure of it. Why wasn’t he touching me? His other hand joined Murphy’s between her legs, gripping and guiding, driving her faster, harder.

Murphy screamed, pleasure and despair twinned around one another in the tone and convulsed. Raith joined her, head thrown back, his cry scratching against my nerves like barbed wire dragged over my dick. I turned my head and threw up, overwhelmed with sensation and a sudden, urgent sense that something was wrong. This wasn’t right. Something was _wrong_.

The pleasure that was strangling me receded a little and I could think. Not quickly, not clearly, but I could think. Raith had killed Thomas. He'd broken my mother's curse and he was free. He was raping Murphy right in front of me. I grabbed at the chains, my fingers feeling slow and stupid. The touch of the smooth, cold metal against the palms of my hands sent a cascade of feeling through me. I shook my head and discovered that I was crumpled against the wall, with no memory of falling. Some of the ground I'd gained in clearing my mind was gone again.

“Your mother fought me too.” Shoes scuffed across the stone floor and Lord Raith was in front of me again, the ring of keys dangling from one hand. Part of me wanted to watch him, to wait for his next move, over joyed that he was finally paying attention to _me_. I fought myself and managed to look away from his too handsome face, to look at Murphy.

She was on her back on the cushions, hands pressed to her stomach, legs raised, feet flat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and the silk to one side of her was darker than the rest, wet with the blood the seeped from her wound. 

“Beautiful, isn't she?” Raith grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled, ripping it away. I could feel something like a cold, gentle breeze coming off of him. It made my skin tingle and burn, the lust that I had fought back a bit growling and clawing at me. I grit my teeth and closed my eyes.

“I'll kill you, you sick son of a bitch.”

I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling. His hand touched my chest, followed the curve of my ribs for a few seconds. 

“No, you won't. You won't do anything but what I desire, Harry. Ever again.” Lips, soft, burning cold and wonderful against my temple, running along the curve of my eye. Raith pressed his bare chest to mine, the feeling rose up and drowned me in thick, heavy pleasure and I flickered out.

“Open your eyes, wizard mine.” I did, because Raith had asked and there was no choice but to make him happy. He would touch me if I did as he asked. 

I wasn't chained to the wall any longer. We had moved, somehow, to the cushions beside Murphy. Raith must have undressed me himself. I mourned not being able to remember his hands on me, all of his focus only for me. 

“I've learned, since your mother escaped me.” As he spoke, Raith was urging me to sit up, to rise to my knees. I followed his lead, my skin jumping with every word he spoke, as though his voice was stroking me all over. “I gave her too much freedom.” His lips were against the back of my neck.

I was kneeling between Murphy's spread legs, the tip of my erection just inside of her, waiting. Another blank spot, where all I could recall was Lord Raith's grey eyes, blotting out the world. Our breath came together, harsh and desperate. I could feel the trembling of her legs where they brushed my sides. We held, staring at each other, unable to move until Raith willed it. It was for him, all of it. It should be perfect for him.

A nudge, fingers, dry and too large against my ass, then inside of me. I cried out, felt something tear, a trickle of blood, hot, and jerked forward, buried inside of Murphy without a thought. She groaned beneath me, her hands coming up to claw at my sides, my back. Her mouth was against my chest, teeth and tongue seeking, nipping and biting at skin. 

Raith left us, circled us at a languid predator's pace, moving in and out of my vision, touching us here and there. And talking, always talking. His voice was as beautiful as the rest of him, deep and rich, the bottom of the ocean, heavy and inescapable. I couldn't get a good breath, couldn't see anything but the rich red and white silk beneath me, a few tendrils of Murphy's hair spread out over it. 

We performed for him, Murphy pulsing around me, clinging to me until it was almost painful to withdraw, to thrust back in and wring wordless cries of agonized pleasure from her. I could feel words trapped in my throat, beneath the beat of my heart that had lodged there. A sense of _badwrongstoppleasenononopleasestopstop_ that gibbered beneath the blanket of _Raith_ and _pleasehimmakehimhappymakehimseemetouchmemore_. The feelings fought, half formed thoughts that died as they struggled to rise within my mind, but my body showed no reluctance, nothing but revelry in the pleasure that beat against me from the inside, driving me.

“So lovely, you kine. You move so well once you stop thinking about anything but me.” His hand at the small of my back, holding me down and in place. Murphy screamed as I was forced to stop moving, her legs coming up and wrapping around the backs of my thighs. She started to move beneath me, tiny, hard thrusts up and down over my length, fucking herself. “You taste _so good_.” His voice had gone even deeper; it had a strange, inhuman quality to it now. I wanted to move, my body singing with strain and need and tension.

Raith's hand was gone from my skin and I could finally move again, meeting Murphy's desperate movements, driving the air from her lungs with each hard thrust forward. I felt Raith beside us still, the brush of his arm against me as he reached between us to touch Murphy somewhere. A shaky sob came from her and it sounded torn, frightened and excited. 

The fear rattled around inside of my head, slashing at the lust. My body was moving before my mind caught up to what it was doing. I tore myself from Murphy, though her legs remained clamped around my legs and lunged at Raith. He laughed and the sight of it, of his smiling, white eyed face burned through me.

“ _Just_ like your mother.” He caught me by the throat. The world went suffocating and white again.

His hands moved over me, quick and knowing. I writhed beneath him, the heavy white feeling leaving me slowly, leaving me alone with the tingle of skin against skin. There was a roof beyond his head, not the cave. We'd moved. How long had I been-

Raith's mouth was on my throat, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of hickies up to the curve of my jaw. His tongue lapped at the curve of my ear, a slick, squirming touch that sent me arching off the bed, crying out. He sank his teeth into the sensitive shell of my ear and I could feel the vibration of his laughter. It felt wonderful.

“She loved that too, my Maggie. Loved so many things I did to her.” Raith pulled at my hair again, not gently. I felt it all the way through my body, the pain tightening things inside of me all the way down to the balls of my feet. “I'm so pleased I didn't have to have you killed, Harry. You're going to be so very useful, once I've tamed you.”

His hands resumed their exploration of my body, finding spots that set me on fire, made me beg beneath him, my hands ripping at the sheets beneath me. Raith spread me open, his fingers piercing me again and again, fucking me open with his hands. Words floated up to me, through me, things I couldn't get my mind to make sense of.

When he finally entered me, I thought I was going to die. It felt so good to be taken, to have him inside of me, light and ecstasy given physical form. I couldn't think, couldn't feel anything except for pleasure so huge it hurt. Raith moved, hard and fast, no room for anything but him, driving every thought from my head. Moisture trickled down my face, salty when it ran over my lips and tongue.

“You feel like her too.” His eyes were silver-white on mine, spinning lazily, hypnotic. My pleasure crested, tearing through me. Something pulled at it, a ghostly sensation of wind sucking across my skin, cold and delightful as it burned. The messy, twitching, physical eruption of my orgasm was an afterthought to the unearthly pleasure that rammed through my body, hollowing me out. “So quick, so needy.” Raith tugged at my hair. “You'll grow your hair out. I want to see it long, so I can wrap it around my hands when you're on your knees for me. Dresses.”

I whined, limp and helpless beneath him. Pain mingled with the feelings of lust and need that still tingled through every limb. Lord Raith was still hard, still fucking me, the sensation of a wind had gone, leaving me shaking and weak.

“I'll have some made for you, in her colors, her style. Corsets, to get your waist where it should be. Silk stockings.” A hand ran over my leg, catching on the hairs there. I wanted to look away from him, but nothing would work. There was someone missing. A shimmering flash of golden blonde hair moved in front of my eyes and was gone. “I'll make you the perfect replacement for your bitch of a mother, Harry. And you'll thank me for it, won't you?”

Lord Raith smiled, teeth sharp and white. I nodded, weakly. There was still that nagging feeling of wrong, but the pleasure was building again, the silk beneath my back shifting with every thrust, dragging against my skin. Everything was too dull, too far away to worry about except for him, Lord Raith. 

Yes. I would thank him, or beg him, or be silent. Whatever he wanted, as long as he never stopped touching me. Nothing else could possibly matter.


End file.
